Funhouse
by Rattlesnake Smile
Summary: Kurt, after being bullied by Karofsky, yet again, goes to the library to wind down and ends up falling asleep to P!nk. Wacky and totally karmic awesome dreams ensue.  One-shot


****Title: Funhouse  
><strong>Rating**: PG-13  
><strong>Character<strong>(**s**)/**Pairing**(**s**): Kurt  
><strong>Genre<strong>: songfic… as if I write anything else lately.  
><strong>Warning<strong>: um… destructing of public property.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything about GLEE… yet. But if all goes according to plan. Come Monday morning. (cue evil laugh)  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Kurt goes to the library to wind down after another incident with Karofsky and falls asleep listening to P!nk.

**Author's Notes: **So… I decided to go for a run at three in the morning ('cause that's how I roll) and I ended up listening to P!nk. The song "Funhouse" came on and took me back to when I was in bullied in high school and how I wanted to burn the school down. So, using my totally awesome imagination, I came up with this… enjoy.

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><p><strong>FUNHOUSE<strong>

Kurt stayed leaning against the locker, despite the bruises that would be forming from the vicious shove and waited until Karofsky and Azimo rounded the corner before he straightened up. He walked into the library, wincing the whole way, before sitting back in a secluded corner and pulling out his Chemistry Notes and iPod. Making sure that the librarian wasn't lurking around the corner or anything, he popped the ear-buds into his ears and pressed play on a random song. Turning to his boring notes, he quickly lost interest and began dozing off…

**GLEE**

Kurt walked down the hallway of William McKinley High School, with a guitar and drums playing over the loudspeaker. As he walked, he started to bounce, then dance with the beat, twirling around the deserted corridors.

"_I dance around this empty house_." Kurt sang. "_Tear us down, throw you out! Screaming down the halls. Spinning all around and now we fall_." Kurt spun around in wild circles as he rounded the corner toward the main hallway. A baseball bat was laying propped against the wall and Kurt picked it up as he danced past it. He approached the wall of photos, his blue eyes focusing on the pictures featuring the athletic teams, his tormentors. "_Pictures framing up the past, your taunting smirk behind the glass_." The baseball bat crashed through the glass, broke frames, and spilled the pictures onto the floor. "_This museum full of ash_." Another swing. Shattered glass and broken trophies. "_Once a tickle, now a rash_!"

"_This used to be a Funhouse_!" Kurt continued as he walked more of the hallways, venturing toward the classrooms where he was bullied right under the teacher's nose. "_But now it's full of evil clowns_." He tore down posters for the Cheerios, featuring them in their horrible uniforms. How unoriginal. "_It's time to start the count down_." He approached Coach Sylvester's office. "_I'm gonna burn it down, down, down. I'm gonna burn it down_."

"_Nine, eight, seven_." Kurt counted as he entered Sue's office, spying a portrait of her hanging behind her desk. "_Six, five, four_." He casually shoved her crap off her desk before walking around it toward the portrait. "_Three, two, one_." He raised the bat and smiled. "_Fun_!" He brought the bat forward and desecrated the false idol.

"_Echoes knocking on locked doors_." Kurt sang over the loudspeaker mic that Sue had in her office, tossing the bat at her trophies. "_All the laughter, from before_." He made it out of the office and up the stairs to the Chemistry labs, walking into the deserted room. "_I'd rather live out on the street, than in this haunted memory._" He turned on all the Bunsen burners and let the gas fill the air as he danced out and down the hall toward the woodshop class. "_I've called the movers, call the maids, we'll try to exorcise the place_." he entered the shop and knocked over a beautiful grandfather clock that shattered upon falling to he concrete floor. "_Drag my mattress to the yard_." he kicked over a full barrel of gas used to power some of the machines, letting it spill across the floor. "_Crumble, tumble, house of cards."_

"_This used to be a fun house_!" The counter-tenor continued, kick-rolling another barrel down the hall to another staircase. "_But now it's full of evil clowns_." He kicked it down the stairs and watched as it broke open and filled the halls with more toxic liquid. "_It's time to start the count down. I'm gonna burn it down, down, down. I'm gonna burn it down_!"

He strolled leisurely down the staircase he originally climbed, dowsing the steps with more gasoline from the can in his hands. "_This used to be a fun house_!" he continued. "_But now it's full of evil clowns_." He danced backward, creating a line of gasoline from the steps toward the front entrance. "_It's time to start the count down. I'm gonna burn it down, down, down_." He tossed the now empty can aside and picked his bag up from the floor where he put it earlier. "_I'm gonna burn it down_!"

"_Nine, eight, seven_." Kurt continued, walked down the hall toward the exit, counting down on his fingers. "_Six, five, four_." He raised his right hand in the air with three fingers up. "_Three, two, one_." He flipped off the school behind him. "_Fun_."

The doors to McKinley High burst open and Kurt crawled out and down the front steps. "_I'm crawling through, the doggy-door_." He rolled easily to his feet, the gasoline that he trailed toward the door falling softly down the steps. "_My key won't fit my lock no more_." He readjusted his shoulder strap. "_I've changed the drapes. I'll break the plates. I'll find a new place and burn this fucker down_." He turned and faced the school.

"_Do do do do dodo do_." Kurt bopped out as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a box of matches. "_Do do do do dodo do_." He pulled at match out. "_Do do do do dadadada_!" He smiled up at the school that had been his prison, holding a lit match in his hand. He tossed it to the ground where the gasoline instantly lit up and the flames rushed into the school. Kurt started walking slowly backward as he watch McKinley catch fire. "_Nine, eight, seven_." He smiled, adjusting his perfect hair. "_Six, five, four_." He smiled and turned around, heading toward his Navigator. "_Three, two, one_." He swept his arms out like a conductor with an orchestra and the building behind him blew. The windows all shattered and large chunks of stone and masonry were launched into the air, landing on cars other than his baby.

"_This used to be a fun house_." Kurt sang anew as he entered his SUV, placing his key in the ignition. "_But now it's full of evil clowns. It's time to start the count down_." He pulled out of the parking lot as the chem labs blew up next. "_I'm gonna burn it down, down, down. I went and burned it down_."

He smiled victoriously.

**GLEE**

The bell rang loud enough to wake up Kurt over the P!nk song playing form his iPod. Looking at his watch, he noticed that school was out and it was time to head to Glee. Sighing, he replaced all of his incomplete work back into his messenger bag before exiting the library, making his way to the choir room. As he rounded a corner, he was met with a large shoulder and a violent shove, sending him into the lockers. Picking himself up, he glared at the retreating backs of Karofsky and Azimo as the laughed and high-fived.

Maybe next time they would be trapped in the school when he burned it down.

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><p>Ah... that takes me back. See, thats how I stayed out of trouble when I was bullied. I imagined very creative, very violent, very painful ways to get back at them... and wrote them down. Fun, right. So this is my first solo fic featuring just one character. Let me know what y'all think. I have another songfic featuring Kurt as well as a bunch of the guys coming up. Also, I'm planning an epic fic... but it's a - are you ready for this? - a KurtBlaine fic. GASP! I know, I know... but for the story I have planned, it'll just work out better. Review are much appreciated. They are my crack and I'm fixin' for my dose.


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